


tell me where we go from here

by wheo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Quantum Abyss (Voltron), final klance fight theory au but. before it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheo/pseuds/wheo
Summary: “Wait, where are you going?”Right,Keith thinks. Exactly two years on a stupid space whale, and Lance is still the same. Exactly seven hundred and thirty days on a stupid space whale, and Lance still looks at him with the same sad blue eyes and the same hurt expression he wore when Keith left the team.“Acxa saved our skin, I’m not gonna leave her behind,” he says and turns away and thinksthere’s no way to be sure.“I’ll meet up with you guys soon.” And he walks, and pretends Lance’s eyes aren’t burning into the back of his skull.Keith is good at pretending.





	tell me where we go from here

Keith has been on a stupid space whale in the stupid quantum abyss for exactly four hundred eighty-five stupid days. Keith has been on a stupid space whale for exactly four hundred eighty-five stupid days and he knows that because he's been writing the days down on the inside of a cave and he's running out of space to write on. And Keith has been on a stupid space whale for over four hundred eighty-whatever stupid days and he can't wait to go back to his stupid friends. His mother doesn't share his pain.

 

His mother sits tight by the fire and sometimes spaces out, flashes of the future or the past clouding her eyes, and when she comes back up she doesn’t mention a word of it. And Keith sometimes wonders what she saw— maybe his father in a dusty kitchen, hands dirty with flour and a smile plastered across his face like it was sewn into him. Or maybe she saw her son, bleeding out on her hands, or maybe somewhere else. And maybe she calls out to him, but he can’t hear her. His blood has already turned cold.

 

Keith writes down the four hundred and eighty-fifth day and then sits down across his mother by the fire. His wolf— who he hasn’t named yet because the wolf hasn’t named himself (and Keith likes it when people— and, wolves, in this case— choose their own names. After all, his own name was lovingly given to him by none other than his own self) — affectionately rubs against his legs. Keith lets the wolf’s head rest in his lap.

 

“You should rest,” his mother says suddenly, eyes distant. The flickers of the fire reflect in them. “It has been a long day.”

 

_ Every day is a long day,  _ Keith thinks.  _ We’re in the middle of a fucking abyss with nothing but ourselves. We’re in the middle of a fucking abyss and it has been four hundred eighty-five days and we have no fucking clue how many more days will pass before we make it out of here.  _

 

He’s trying to bond with his mother, though. So with little hesitation, he says, “okay.”

 

_ It has been a long day,  _ he thinks, and closes his eyes.

 

*

 

He wakes up in his body, but not quite.  _ That’s what waking up is supposed to be like,  _ he thinks, but it doesn’t reach his head. It’s like he’s himself, but not completely.

 

His surroundings are a blur. He blinks once, then twice, and then realizes the bonfire has caught onto everything else, with flames swallowing everything in his sight. And he blinks again, and realizes stone, despite being in space, shouldn’t really be able to catch on fire. And then he blinks again.

 

His body involuntary jerks into action. It takes him three steps to make out a blur of white and blue in the distance, a paladin’s armor, achingly familiar. His fingers twitch and he’s holding a sword in his right hand and he’s marching right in Lance’s direction.And he’s in his body but he isn’t himself. 

 

Lance is pretty roughed up, Keith can now see it from up close— a slash across his chest plate, but not deep enough; a gash bleeding red, horizontally spreading across his cheek, right under the cluster of freckles on the top of his cheekbones. When he looks up to Keith, his eyes are glazed over with emotion, but it isn’t fear. His lips quiver but he isn’t scared— and he looks at Keith with tired eyes but they aren’t wide with terror. It’s something else.

 

And so, Lance kneels in front of him, looking at him with expectancy, and Keith can’t move his arms but he’s raising his sword. He’s raising his sword, and leveling it, putting it right between Lance’s eyes, and Keith wants to yell but he can’t. He wants to drop the sword and hold Lance’s head to his chest and kiss his wounds away, but he can’t. He realizes, then, the sword he’s holding isn’t his bayard. It’s his mother’s blade.

 

“I accept this,” Lance then says, without a tremble in his voice, “I accept this, if this is what you want. If this is what you want, then Keith is long gone.” An intake of breath, sharp like the blade in Keith’s hold. “If this is what you want, and Keith is long gone, then there is no point.”

 

And Keith wants to scream  _ I’m not  _ but he can’t until he can— until he’s screaming himself awake. His eyes open and he wakes up yelling, trashing, his mother holding him down by his shoulders, if they’re even his. And he blinks himself awake and blinks at his tears— and his mother holds his head to her chest. His mother holds his head to her chest and he cries against it, hands shaking and fingers twitching from where they’re gripping her armor. His mother whispers things he can’t understand— and through the haziness of it all, he makes the words out to be Galran.

 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before his eyes dry and sobs stop bubbling up from the back of his throat— but he guesses, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it’s probably still the four hundred and eighty-fifth day. And he’s still on a stupid space whale.

 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” his mother says, and presses a kiss into his hair. It’s barely there. Keith finds comfort in it, anyway.

 

“Okay,” he says, and then, “how do I know if what just happened was a dream or a vision? Is there a way to know?”

 

She goes quiet for a moment. Her hand stiffens against his back. “I’m sorry,” she says. “There is not a way to be sure.”

 

A gash across Lance’s cheek, bleeding red.  _ If this is what you want, and Keith is long gone, then there is no point.  _

 

_ It has been a long day,  _ Keith thinks, and wonders if it gets worse from here.

 

*

 

Keith comes back and walks right past Lance’s open arms without sparing him a second glance.  _ There isn’t a way to be sure. _

 

“I don’t want to be stuck here for eternity with Lance,” Keith says, a mouthful of lies, but Lance believes it, anyway. Keith pretends he doesn’t care about the look of hurt on the red paladin’s face. 

 

_ There isn’t a way to be sure. _

 

“Wait, where are you going?”

 

_ Right,  _ Keith thinks. Exactly two years on a stupid space whale, and Lance is still the same. Exactly seven hundred and thirty days on a stupid space whale, and Lance still looks at him with the same sad blue eyes and the same hurt expression he wore when Keith left the team. And Keith has spent exactly two years on a stupid fucking space whale, but Lance still makes him feel equally as stupid. Maybe it’s because he  _ is  _ stupid.

 

A gash across Lance’s cheek, bleeding red.  _ You’re supposed to leave me alone. Don’t go after me. _

 

“Acxa saved our skin, I’m not gonna leave her behind,” he says and turns away and thinks  _ there’s no way to be sure.  _ “I’ll meet up with you guys soon.” And he walks, and pretends Lance’s eyes aren’t burning into the back of his skull.

 

Keith is good at pretending.

  
  


*

 

Saving Earth is harder than saving any other planet, Keith thinks. And he doesn't know why, but he guesses it's because Pidge looks at Earth and sees Colleen and Sam, and Hunk looks at Earth and sees his parents, and Lance looks at Earth and sees his mother. And Keith looks at Earth and sees nothing but a planet he once used to call home.

 

But they make it, somehow, with hearts pounding behind their ribs cracking behind their chest plates. They make it because Pidge thinks of sentries and thinks of Matt, fearing for his life in a cell seven years ago— and Hunk thinks of Galran ships and thinks of his niece and nephew, looking at the sky turn black while their toys fall from their hands— and Lance thinks of fiery explosions and thinks of Veronica and Rachel and Marcos and Luis and the fear reflecting in their eyes. And Keith thinks of a car crash, a comm connection crackling into silence, the feeling of terror striking him like a lightning bolt out of a clear sky. He thinks of a boy, lying in the dirt and not getting up—  _ ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the boy with stars in his eyes and moondust in his lungs returning home.  _ And then he thinks of Lance's voice filling his ears and the feeling of relief flowing into his gut like a tidal wave and he guesses everyone has their reasons to keep fighting.

 

Allura finds reason in everything. Allura sees Earth and she sees Altea in it. Allura sees Earth and grips the controls of the blue lion and feels her father's presence, feels her people's pain. And Allura sees Earth and sees a burning planet, over ten thousand years ago, and she swears she won't let her friends feel the grief she once felt. The grief she still feels. Allura sees Pidge and Hunk and Lance, and she sees herself in them.

 

Three earthlings, one Altean, one half-Galra. Three earthlings, risking their lives for their planet, one Altean risking her life for the planet of their friends and one half-Galran risking his life for what? His reason is right there with him when the bomb goes off.

 

_ There is no way to know,  _ Keith thinks, and thinks about how he kept Lance away from him for  _ months  _ because there was no way to know. Because there was no way to know if his fate had meant for him to kill the boy he loved. Because there was no way to know if it was just some fucked up dream. And now he’s dying, and Lance is dying with him.

 

“Please don’t go after me,” he whispers into the comms, not knowing what the words mean. It's a knee-jerk reaction, like he's not himself again. The world turns black before he can guess if anyone has heard him.

  
  


*

 

The flowers on his father’s grave are wilting. Keith kneels in front of it.

 

“This was too easy,” she says, and the nozzle of her gun grazes against Keith’s neck. “Way too easy. I thought Voltron paladins are supposed to be smart.”

 

Keith snorts despite himself. “Most of them are. I’m the dumb one.”  _ I just don’t wanna be stuck here for eternity with Lance. _

 

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Haggar will make you smarter. You'll be the best Galra super-weapon in no time, and your friends will fall right for it.” She presses the gun against the back of his skull. “I bet the blue one has a soft spot for you. Or is he the red one now?”

 

“Red, soon to be black,” Keith answers and hopes what she says isn't true. Hopes he pushed Lance far enough for him not to try and catch him again. 

 

_ There isn't a way to know,  _ Keith thinks, and knows what happens next. He welcomes the darkness with open hands.

 

_ Please don't go after me. _

 

_ There isn't a way to know. _

  
  



End file.
